


#3 a love story for the ages

by cute_lil_fluff



Series: you love me anyway (stranger things big bang) [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Boys Kissing, M/M, Photography, st big bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cute_lil_fluff/pseuds/cute_lil_fluff
Summary: “What are we doing then?” Mike asks, standing close to Will's side, peering over the shorter boy's shoulder, a feat that has never been difficult for Mike. Will pulls out a big, brown envelope, the back lined with cardboard, the wordsDo Not Bendplastered across the front in a messy stamp of red ink. Mike smiles.





	#3 a love story for the ages

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Stranger Things Big Bang, so it is also posted [here](http://holy-winona.tumblr.com/post/160404115321/you-love-me-anyway-byeler-stranger-things-big) on [my tumblr](http://holy-winona.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, I was paired up with [@miliebobbybrown](http://miliebobbybrown.tumblr.com/) as my artist, so you can find her work [here](http://miliebobbybrown.tumblr.com/post/160410570590/i-love-you-mike-will-whispers-the-pure)

“Woah there, Byers. I know you're desperate to get me in your bedroom, but there's no need to be so forceful.” Mike calls after Will as he's pulled up the long corridor down the middle of the Byers residence. The smaller boy's hand is gripped tightly onto Mike's as he leads the way to his room.

“Why?” Will calls back, looking back over his shoulder with a sly grin. “Because you don't need forcing?” He raises his eyebrows at Mike, but he just gets a devious smirk in response, Mike wiggling his eyebrows up and down at Will with a comedy-level wink.

Will turns back around and bites his cheek, not wanting to give Mike the satisfaction of his laughter. It's difficult, but he suppresses the giggle growing in his throat. “That's what I thought.” He mutters, trying to keep the smile out of his voice as he pushes his door open with his free hand.

Will pulls his hand out of Mike's so that he can slide his backpack and his coat off his shoulders, throwing them carelessly onto his unmade bed in his hurry. Mike does the same, although he's a little more orderly, neatly placing his bag by the door and his coat over the back of Will's desk chair. He's not as quick as Will, and he's distracted by the innocent eagerness and excitement on the small boy's face as he rifles through his backpack.

“What are we doing then?” Mike asks, standing close to Will's side, peering over the shorter boy's shoulder, a feat that has never been difficult for Mike. Will pulls out a big, brown envelope, the back lined with cardboard, the words _Do Not Bend_ plastered across the front in a messy stamp of red ink. Mike smiles.

Joyce brought that envelope home from work years ago, when Jonathan had just started getting into photography, and found the dark room at Hawkins High the perfect new hiding spot. The envelope was to keep his developed photos safe in his back, to stop them from folding under his textbooks or from being ruined by any ink staining the bottom of his old bag.

Eventually, though, Jonathan had saved up to buy a proper folder to store his photos in, with various pockets and tabs and a zip holding the whole thing together, and Will had nabbed the envelope for himself. Will passes it over to Mike, who takes it in gentle hands. He pulls the pictures from inside it as carefully as he can, making sure not to rip them or smear them with his fingerprints.

Whilst he's doing this, Will drops to his knees and peers beneath his bed, hands patting along the carpet under it until he locates what he's searching for. He pulls out his big photo album, a brown, leather cover and an elastic fastening containing Will's entire life.

Will absolutely loves it.

Joyce and Jonathan had surprised him with it on the Christmas of '83. Will was still feeling lost and disconnected from the world around him whilst he dealt with the aftermath of that horrendous week. So his brother and mum had pitched in for the album so that he could start organising his memories, creating a physical representation of the space he takes up in the world, and the people and places that meant the most to him.

Over the years, it's become littered and filled with drawings and photographs and random bits and pieces that Will likes, or finds interesting. There's a collection of leaves from the changing seasons, carefully dried and pressed flat between the pages of Joyce's big encyclopedia that only gets read by Will.

_04/02/84 – The trees show us how to let go of the past._

There's a four leafed clover that Lucas had found and pressed into Will's palm on one sunny afternoon the boys spent in the forest. Will had smiled, because Lucas had remembered how much he loves them.

_27/05/85 – I hope good things happen._

Another page holds a whole collection of doodles that Dustin had sent Will on a series of notes during English class, a lesson that Dustin loathed. The doodles depict Will the Wise, clad in his big cloak, casting a fireball and defeating the Demogorgan once and for all.

_11/07/87 – Dustin can't stand English, but D &D always makes the time pass faster._

Despite the strange collection of things, Will is painstakingly thorough with his photo album. Everything is placed in it's own individual compartment, dates and descriptions written neatly on the little line in the margins of each page.

Will's curled writing briefly explains what each and every thing in that book means to him, so that the value and importance of whatever it is can never be forgotten or disregarded. So that if he starts feeling a little lost, like he's just floating through the motions of a day with no real purpose, he can find everything that he thinks is important, and he can remember exactly who he is.

Even the tiniest things in life can mean the world to him.

Mike settles cross-legged across from Will on the floor in the middle of Will's room, the photo album laying open on the most recent page between the. The last addition is a portrait of Eleven, a ring of daisies perches on her short, brown hair.

Will has been working on his realism lately, and he finds El to be the perfect model. She doesn't mind sitting unmoving for hours as he works next to her, chatting idly or just enjoying the silence, observing and admiring the beautiful world they are lucky to live in.

_18/04/88 – The grass is soft and El likes the smell of daisies._

Mike's always been fascinated by Will's ability to remember dates. They just seem to stick in his head, like the laws of science and rules of mathematics do in his. He can pick up a photo and instantly recall the day on which it was taken.

The pile of pictures he developed today have been collated over the last few months, and yet he can still easily lay them out chronologically and date them accordingly. Will creates a line of photos in front of Mike, a time line running across the carpet, a series of snapshots of their lives over the last half-year.

_18/04/88 – Max does not like the smell of daisies, they make her nose itch._

Mike watches silently as Will starts at one end of the line, placing them each in their separate pockets, delicate hands working diligently, slotting each one in and writing their caption without a second thought. Will is completely awe inspiring to Mike, absolutely intriguing.

Mike can't wait until twenty years have passed and he and Will curl up together on their big sofa in the living room of their big hours and they flick through this album for hours. They could spend days laughing at the candid pictures of their friends pulling stupid faces as stupid kids, and marvelling at Will's artistic capabilities.

_28/07/88 – Each sunrise brings a chance to start anew._

Mike plucks a few of the photos from the line, placing them on his lap and holding them gently in his hands, smiling down at them. There's one of him and Will, curled up on the sofa in the Wheeler's basement, the blankets and pillows sprawled around them the obvious aftermath of a sleepover.

Will's pressed between Mike and the sofa cushions, Mike wounds around his back. Long arms are circling the boy's small chest, Mike's long legs falling of the seat and hanging down, nearly hitting the floor. They're both fast asleep, faces the epitome of serenity and contentment.

_19/08/88 – I'm pretty sure Dustin loves our relationship more than we do._

He traces his fingers gently over another one, El and Max perched on the steps of the Byers' porch on a bright, summer day whilst they were off school for the holidays. There's a light breeze ruffling their hair, Max's ginger locks floating onto El's shoulder.

Somehow, Will managed to catch the right angle of the sun hitting the pair, turning them almost into a silhouette of two people against the blue sky. Despite this, the details of their hair and their clothes are still easy to make out.

As Mike's smiling down at the photograph, recalling that day, full of Joyce's home made ice cream and a game of rounders in the Byers' back yard, Will reaches over and pulls it from his hands. Will bites his lip sheepishly up at Mike as he slots it into the next free pocket. Mike scoffs, frowning back at Will as he picks up his pen again, articulating another caption.

_21/08/88 – They were watching squirrels; El likes the grey ones, Max prefers the red._

Mike scans his eyes to the end of the line of photos and he can't help but smile once again. “I didn't think you were going to develop this one.” Mike reaches out to gently pick up the photo, chuckling lightly as he grins down at it. Will leans forward to see the photo he's talking about, sighing softly and sitting back when he realises which picture he's chosen. Instead he focuses on the stupid grin on Mike's face.

The picture was taken a few weeks ago, when Mike was staying over at the Byers', and they'd sat out on the front porch for a bit of fresh air after dinner. Will's camera had been set by his hip, as usual, as he stared up at the blanket of stars covering the wide expanse of the night sky.

Mike had spent nearly all the rime they'd been outside staring at the fascinated look on Will's face, nearly half an hour, before he decided to capture the expression in a photograph. Even if Will didn't want it, Mike would keep it till the day he died just so that he could stare at this boy every day for the rest of his life.

The picture brings out the shine of Will's dark eyes, reflecting the light of the lamp from above the front door. And the angle of the camera manages to highlight the soft angles of Will's high cheekbones and his jawline.

Will's lips are slightly parted as he gapes at the impossible reality of the stars above them and the entire universe and everything beyond that. The sheer wonder of it all, the ideas, the possibilities, the realities running through Will's brain a mile a minute.

Although Mike usually shared this fascination, this time, he wasn't seeing any of it. He was too busy staring at this boy he loves with every little piece of his heart, this boy he would do absolutely anything for, this boy who deserves every single star in the sky and more. Mike so desperately wants to give it all to him, and to make him see how worthy he is of it, but life just isn't as simple as that.

Hurtful words from his father and merciless bullying from his peers has all but shattered Will's self-esteem, making him constantly worried and scared, second guessing his every move. And yet he still manages to remain so gentle and loving, and it completely blows Mike's mind. He's experienced the worst kind of things, and yet stays so untainted by the resentment and anger that would corrupt anyone else in his position.

Mike sure knows that he's angry. He curses the names of everyone who's ever said anything bad about his boy, and he will defend Will to the ends of the Earth, if that's what it takes. And that's something that Mike is certain about.

He doesn't realise how long he's been staring down at the photo until bony hands appear in his vision once again, plucking the photo from his fingers and slotting it into the next pocket. Will does this with a shy smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

Mike watches curiously as Will dates the photo, but leave the rest of the margin empty. He doesn't add a caption or a comment, or even a sarcastic jab at Mike's photography skills. He just leaves it blank.

As Will reaches for the next picture, Mike ponders his next move. Will is meticulous about his photo album, and everyone knows this. Every date has to be right, every caption has to be meaningful, every picture has to be in line with the one above. And Mike really doesn't want to ruin that for him.

But that picture is important to him, and he wants Will to understand how important it is, and he wants Will to value it to the same extent as he does, even if he has trouble with seeing himself through Mike's eyes. He has trouble seeing himself as the perfect being that Mike describes him as.

Mike slowly reaches over and picks up Will's pen, meeting Will's wide eyes when he looks up from the line of pictures, eyes flicking between Mike's hand and his face. Mike gives him a soft smile, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Can I?” He asks, in a quiet voice. Will nods.

With Will's agreement, Mike tucks the pen behind his ear and uses both hands to turn the album around to face him, flicking back to the previous page, finding the photo of Will. In his neatest handwriting, he carefully writes out his own caption, next to the photo, under the date. It's impossible for him to hide his grin.

When he's finished and looks up at Will, he's beaming as well, like the sun is radiating out of his soft skin, brightening up the room. There's a tremble running through Will's fingers as he takes the pen back, and it almost seems like he's frightened. But Mike knows that he isn't, he's just suddenly giddy with happiness.

Words can't explain how good it makes Mike feel to have instilled that reaction in this perfect boy.

Will sighs, head ducked down shyly, but he's looking at Mike through his eyelashes, just staring and smiling as Mike does the same back. He quickly leans forward to press a kiss to Mike's lips, dropping the pen on the carpet so that his hands are free to rest on Mike's knees, getting as close to the boy as he can without leaning on any of his photos.

Mike smiles into the kiss, having to pull away sooner than he'd like because he can't help but giggle. He laughs lightly, lips drifting over Will's, dimples indenting his cheeks as he presses their noses together.

“I love you, Mike.” Will whispers, the pure adoration in his voice obvious to Mike, if the look on his face didn't already give it away. It's times like this when Mike knows that Will feels just as strongly about him as he does about Will. And it makes him so happy.

_02/10/88 – William Wheeler_


End file.
